Bobby Akart - Desolation

“We really could use him, Hank,” said Erin as she lifted up the stack of flyers. Hank assured her that he had plenty of toner and copy paper to last for years. While everyone geared up, they produced another three hundred flyers, and Sonny retrieved two Bostitch staple guns from the toolshed to secure them.

“Okay,” said Hank, who assumed his role as the field general. “Mike, Jessica, round up your people and head for the bridge. Look for more ways to aggravate the confiscation teams as they approach.”

“I have a few ideas. Hey, can we have Peter?” Mike asked.

“Sure. Grab him on your way out,” replied Hank. “Erin, Sonny and I will be meeting up with Mayor Ramirez. He has some local business leaders lined up to help.”

“Reverend Deb sent one of her parishioners to the gate last night,” began Mike. “I was returning home when I saw the man walking alone toward our bridge. I scared the crap out of him when I came out of my truck with a shotgun pointed at him.”

“Poor guy,” said Hank. “What did he say?”

“Reverend Deb was busy yesterday. She managed to locate and speak with most of the clergy in town. They’re one hundred percent on board with us.”

Hank glanced at his watch. It was approaching eight o’clock, when he wanted to be at the mayor’s office. “Guys, I love you all. Please be careful today. No matter what happens, our safety is most important. We can always get more stuff if it comes to that.”

That morning, Sonny had run the generator for an extra hour to ensure the batteries on their two-way radios were fully charged. Mike reviewed their choices of weapons and helped them load extra magazines in case they needed them. He really didn’t want the family to get into a gunfight, but their experience in Key West told him to expect anything.

Hank and Erin hoped their diplomatic approach would avoid violence. The more the group discussed the personalities involved, they became convinced Lindsey had used this catastrophic event to seize power and control. Having Sheriff Jock do her bidding made her even more power hungry. Now it was up to the people of Marathon to take a stand.

While Mike, Jessica, and Peter prepared the bridge for the approach of the tactical vehicles, Hank, Erin and Sonny drove to the mayor’s office. When they arrived, the parking lot was full of vehicles with an equal number of bicycles propped against the wall near the entrance to Marathon City Hall.

The Albright contingent was the last to arrive in the city council’s meeting room, which was packed to a standing-room-only crowd. Multiple battery-operated lanterns were scattered throughout the space so everyone could see. Mayor Ramirez stood behind the lectern and was addressing the group when he noticed Hank enter the room.

“Hank! Everyone, most of you know Hank Albright, who owns the Driftwood Key Inn. His family is some of the original conchs.”

Several familiar faces were in the crowd, and many stretched their arms out to shake Hank’s hand as he approached the lectern. Erin and Sonny followed close behind. A couple of people even recognized Erin and called her by name.

Hank reached the mayor’s side, and Erin handed him the pile of six hundred flyers. “Everyone, I’m going to be brief because we don’t have much time. I know that Juan has called you here to help, and I imagine he’s explained what’s about to happen.”

“Are you sure, Hank?” asked a woman near the front, whom he recognized as being a local attorney. “I know Lindsey can be overbearing, but this is a little hard to believe.”

“Have you seen the video?” Hank asked, and then he turned to the crowd. “Has everyone seen the video?”

Many said no, and several replied that they’d only seen the photographs.

Juan stepped forward with a laptop. “Everyone, if you haven’t seen the video, please step forward. I’m going to forewarn you. This is graphic.”

The crowd shuffled around to allow those who wanted to watch get closer to the front. By the time Juan finished playing the video, the attendees regretted watching, and their anger had built to a fever pitch.

“What are we gonna do about this?”

“They should be arrested!”

“By who? Themselves?”

Hank retook the floor. “Okay, everyone. We share the same feelings. Trust me. This was just a part of the video we took. It was much worse, and let me add, it wasn’t the first incident like this. Lindsey and Jock are running roughshod over the citizens and businesses of Key West. They aim to take their pillaging roadshow all the way to Key Largo if we don’t take a stand.”

“What can we do?” asked the female attorney near the front of the crowd.

Erin held some of the flyers over her head. “We know they’re on their way. Our surveillance team watched them empty the Winn-Dixie on Big Pine Key. Their staging right now at the Penske Truck Rental, where they commandeered ten more box trucks.” She was embellishing somewhat, but she felt it was necessary to keep this new batch of volunteers at a fever pitch.

“We’re ready to help!”

“Yeah!”

Hank raised some flyers high in the air for everyone to see. “We need everyone to take some of these flyers. Go to your neighborhoods and spread the word. Knock on doors. Post these in prominent places. We’ll do the same. We need all of Marathon to understand that their homes and belongings are at risk if we don’t try to stop them.”

“I’ll take some.”

“Me too.”

“I have a generator and a copy machine. I’ll make some more copies and have my entire family spreading the word.”

Hank shouted over the enthusiastic crowd. “Wait. Wait. We need one more thing. If you haven’t been down to the bridge, you may not be aware that we’ve blocked the road to prevent them from gaining access. That may not be enough. If you own businesses on the highway, you might want to make sure they’re boarded up. Kinda like a storm is coming. Well, in a way, one is.”

The group all made their way to the front and grabbed flyers. It was getting warm and stuffy in the city council’s meeting room, so people were anxious to get going.

“Whadya think, Juan?” asked Hank after the two men stood to the side to allow Sonny, Erin and Juan’s wife, Lisa, to pass out the flyers and offer suggestions.

“I went down to the bridge early this morning. It’s a mess and definitely impassable.”

“Good,” added Hank. “I haven’t had time to see for myself. I wanted to get the town behind it first.”

The Marathon mayor agreed. “I think this has been a great start. Let’s see how we’re doing in a few hours when the convoy arrives. But I have to remind you that the county has plenty of road equipment capable of clearing this traffic jam your brother created. If they’re determined, we won’t be able to hold them off forever.”

Hank grimaced and nodded his head as Juan voiced the same concerns he had. “I have an idea. Do you guys have enough gas to drive up to Islamorada and back?”

“I think so. Why?”

Hank whispered to Mayor Ramirez, who eagerly took in his instructions. He kept glancing at his watch as Hank spoke but seemed ready to take on the task.

“Now, I take it?” the mayor asked as Hank finished.

“Yes, and you’ll need to hurry.”

Friday, November 15

Seven Mile Bridge

Sergeant Jorge Rivera was exhausted. He’d spearheaded this operation on behalf of the mayor and his boss, Sheriff Jock Daly, from the beginning. He was known to be a micromanager. As a result, he insisted upon his tactical vehicle accompanying every major raid, and then, once the box trucks were loaded for delivery to the warehouses in Key West, he led the way back. He’d been operating on minimal sleep since the raids began, and his nerves had worn thin as the crowds surrounding the grocery stores became increasingly hostile.